


House Drabbles

by Topaz_Eyes



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Drabble Collection, Episode Related, Gift Fic, Haiku, Humor, Minor Character Death, Multi, Poetry, Prompt Fic, Songfic, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-29
Updated: 2009-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-04 04:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topaz_Eyes/pseuds/Topaz_Eyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of various House drabbles and haiku.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Request Drabbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Props to [](http://jazzypom.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://jazzypom.livejournal.com/)**jazzypom** for the look-over.

For [](http://ignipes.livejournal.com/profile)[**ignipes**](http://ignipes.livejournal.com/): **Full House, PG**

_Prompt: House, poker, whiskey. ;-)_

After everyone else folded, House and Cuddy eyed each other over the poker chips.

"I'll raise you fifty, plus ten clinic hours," House announced. "You win, I work the extra shifts. I win, I get three weeks off."

"You're full of it," Cuddy said skeptically. House smirked. "But this will be sweet. Ten clinic hours. Call."

House raised his whiskey shot glass in a toast. "Here's mud in your eye," he said smugly, downing it. Then he revealed his cards. "Well, what do you know? Flush, aces high."

Cuddy uncovered hers with a flourish. "Full house, House. Start on Monday."

 

 

For [](http://inocciduous.livejournal.com/profile)[**inocciduous**](http://inocciduous.livejournal.com/): **Caught in the Act, PG**

_Prompt: House/Wilson and an awkward moment involving Wilson living with House._

Wilson startled at the key turning in the lock, but could not hide the evidence before the front door opened and House sauntered into the living room.

"WILSON! Man starving here, what's for din--"

Then House fell silent, dumbstruck at the sight:

Wilson's bare feet propped on the coffee table.

With foam toe separators between his toes.

And an emery board between his fingers.

"It's not what it looks like, House!" Wilson pleaded, blushing bright pink. "I'm just filing--"

"Thought so!" House exclaimed gleefully, eyeing Wilson's trapped expression with a Cheshire cat's smirk. "You DO paint your toenails! I WIN."

 

 

For [](http://medicinal-mirth.livejournal.com/profile)[**medicinal_mirth**](http://medicinal-mirth.livejournal.com/): **Speculation, PG-13**

_Prompt: House, Wilson and a tattoo._

"So who do you think has a tattoo?"

Wilson looked up from the papers on his desk. "And the relevance of this is--?"

"Just answer the damn question."

"Foreman--"

"Too obvious. And Chase is too preppy. I bet Cameron has a tiny butterfly on her ankle."

"That's more Cuddy's style." Wilson smiled slyly. "You know, sometimes, House, it's whom you least suspect."

House gaped at him. "Oh come on, Jimmy, you're too chicken. I've seen you naked. Your skin's unmarked as a baby's bottom--"

"You haven't seen me naked recently." With that Wilson rose and sauntered out, leaving House speechless.

 

 

For [](http://secondsilk.livejournal.com/profile)[**secondsilk**](http://secondsilk.livejournal.com/): **Another Failed Puzzle, PG**

_Prompt: House/Wilson. Pre-show. Maybe something about the files in the bottom of House's drawer._

Wilson knew there were other files besides Esther's in the bottom drawer of House's desk.

They were the notes of House's failures; though House couldn't save those patients, he saved their files, kept them close by. They knew all puzzles had solutions eventually, even if House could not solve them in time.

So perhaps Wilson should not have been surprised when, a few weeks after House returned to work after his infarction, he burrowed into House's bottom drawer to fetch a file of a former patient--

To find the neat typed letters on the uppermost manila envelope reading "Gregory House."

 

 

For [](http://timbershiver.livejournal.com/profile)[**timbershiver**](http://timbershiver.livejournal.com/): **What Dreams Reveal, PG**

_Prompt: House, Wilson, sleepwalking. (spoilers for "No Reason")_

Wilson began sleepwalking the night after moving back into House's apartment.

House, still recovering from his wounds, didn't ask why; Wilson never remembered it the next day.

The third time, after Wilson banged into the piano, House slid out of bed, limping to Wilson's side as the discordant notes faded into silence. "Wilson," House ordered, looking into unfocused eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Please God," Wilson mumbled, over and over. "I can't lose House."

House guided Wilson to his own bed.

On waking next morning, Wilson was greeted by House's soft voice. "You sleep here from now on."

Wilson didn't sleepwalk again.


	2. Song Title Drabbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [](http://community.livejournal.com/housefic_pens/profile)[**housefic_pens **](http://community.livejournal.com/housefic_pens/)[song title drabble challenge](http://community.livejournal.com/housefic_pens/17544.html).

[ _ **This Woman's Work** _ ](http://www.lyricsfreak.com/k/kate+bush/this+womans+work_20077270.html)

Cuddy stared straight ahead as Wilson drove, not daring to look back. Her hands twisted around the expensive black leather purse in her lap, a cheerful stuffed lamb peeking gaily outside.

"Thank you for coming, Wilson," she whispered into the contracted space.

Beside her, he sighed, reaching a hand out. "Lisa—"

"I know." She cut him off, before he could offer any more platitudes.

The brilliance of the sun made her eyes water. She told herself that it was only because she'd forgotten her sunglasses, as the grassy knoll with its small gray stone receded into the distance behind them.

 

 

[_**Angel** _ ](http://www.lyricsfreak.com/s/sarah+mclachlan/angel_20121956.html)

The pills are small, oblong, and white. Bitter on the tongue, they are almost caustic when chewed, and when swallowed without water they burn on the way down. Yet he welcomes that feeling, the herald of sweet relief to come.

Soon she swoops down, picks him up in her embrace, and holds him closer than a lover. She mutes the words screaming in his ear, soothes his furrowed brow; extinguishes the flame in his leg, builds the invisible wall to hide behind: perfect escape.

House ceases to care as he lets her rock him, closer and closer, to eternal sleep.

 

 

[_**If You Don't Know Me By Now** _ ](http://www.lyricsfreak.com/s/simply+red/if+you+dont+know+me+by+now_20125113.html)

"How much more do you want from me, House?"

House, sitting, sneered from his desk. "If I thought you couldn't handle it, I wouldn't have hired you."

Foreman shook his head, staring past the window.

"You didn't have to take this fellowship, _Eric,_" House continued.

"Maybe I should have stayed in California."

"Yeah, maybe you should have. Become a second-rate doctor. _Lazy._ Always looking for the easy answer. I don't work like that."

"Because being right is _everything_. Doesn't matter who gets hurt, as long as you solve the puzzle."

House looked away. "Yeah, homeboy. Don't ever forget that."

 

 

[_**A Night In Dildo** _ ](http://www.wtv-zone.com/phyrst/audio/nfld/06/dildo.htm)

"All the places you could go for vacation, and you choose _Newfoundland_?" Wilson gaped in disbelief. "_Why?????_"

"I hear it's lovely in summer," House said idly. "Verdant. Fresh sea air. The Vikings had the first North American settlement there a thousand years ago."

"Five hundred years before Columbus," Wilson agreed. His eyes narrowed at the evil gleam in House's. "But I doubt the thought of walking in the footsteps of Nordic legends is the reason." House just smirked.

Two weeks later, Cuddy could only roll her eyes in amusement at the postcard that read "Blow Me Down at Conception Bay."

 

 

[_**Come Talk To Me** _ ](http://www.lyricsfreak.com/p/peter+gabriel/come+talk+to+me_20107563.html)

Somewhere along the line he'd decided she was still too disappointed in what he'd done, to believe she still loved him.

When Blythe learned he'd cheated at Hopkins, she had been disappointed, but she'd forgiven him almost immediately. She'd spent the last twenty years trying to convince Greg of that, to no avail. She'd tried to tell him he'd more than made up for his mistake in the meantime; all she wanted now was to see him happy, not miserable like this.

As she hugged Greg goodbye, Blythe wondered if anything would put a smile back into his eyes again.

 

 

[_**He Mele No Lilo** _ ](http://kapalama.ksbe.edu/elementary/lilo_and_stitch/he_mele_trans.html)

The sunset off the shore of Hawaii shimmered pink, gold and blue on the peaceful waters of the Pacific. Behind them Kohala loomed, sedate over the white sand beach, while the fragrance of papayas and orchids drifted on the salt air.

Allison smiled over at Brian and reached for his hand. "This is beautiful," she murmured, stretching out in her lounge chair. "I'm so glad we came."

Beside her Brian grinned and squeezed back. "Best honeymoon ever, Alli," he agreed.

She would pay off the credit card for another year after Brian died, but it had been totally worth it.

 

 

[_**What A Good Boy** _ ](http://www.lyricsfreak.com/b/barenaked+ladies/what+a+good+boy_20013384.html)

As a boy, Robert remembered the smell of vodka and attar of roses wafting from his mother as she sat beside him in the burnished pew. He chose to concentrate instead on the play of light through stained glass on the pulpit, casting the deacon's white robes into rainbows of color and glinting off the Communion chalice; thinking one day he would stand up there to celebrate the Eucharist.

Now, fifteen years and ten thousand miles away, Dr. Chase holds another silver cup in his hands; no longer filled with the wine he remembers from his youth, but with ashes.


	3. 200th Post Drabbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written to celebrate my 200th LJ post, 200 words/drabble.

**Eye Contact, for ticcyyy** (House/Wilson, PG-13)

"WILSON!"

Wilson whirled around at the voice shouting his name from the elevator opposite the clinic. House stood in the middle, holding the sliding door open with his cane.

"House?"

"Traci Lords porn fest tonight on the Venus channel. You still on?"

"Not tonight, I'm busy," Wilson replied, juggling the stack of files in his hands. "Quarterly departmental reviews are due tomorrow--"

"Geez, Wilson, you sound like Cuddy!"

"--Which you would know about if you ever bothered to do them," Wilson finished, exasperated.

"Come on, Jimmy, it's Traci! You know, lips to dream about? Funbags out to here?" House gestured lewdly.

Wilson shook his head in protest. "The reviews--"

"Can wait. Paperwork tonight, or Traci? Is that really a choice?"

"I—I, uh..." Wilson met House's gaze, his voice dying as his breath caught in his throat. He flushed under the raw neediness of that blatant stare, and licked his suddenly dry lips.

Whatever they were going to do this evening, he knew Traci Lords was only the beginning.

"Tonight," House repeated, his own voice a little tight. "Bring the Guinness."

Wilson just swallowed and nodded in dumb agreement.

Only the elevator door sliding shut between them broke their gaze.

 

 

**With a Capital "T", for daasgrrl** (gen, PG)

"Explain this to me again. You lost your bet with Cuddy and ended up in the hospital's talent show fundraiser. So why do I have to appear onstage in the pink sparkled tux?" Wilson scowled at his reflection in the mirror as he straightened his bow tie.

House smirked behind him. "You do the best dance routine."

"Oncology has its own number! This is supposed to feature the Diagnostics staff!"

"And it does. With a special guest. I appropriated you for the occasion."

"You're the one who should be front and center--"

"Do I look like I can dance?" House brandished his cane. "And someone needs to play accompaniment."

Wilson sighed, conceding that point. "But wouldn't Cameron look better in the pink sequins?"

"She doesn't fill the costume as nicely as you do. Besides, you can sing. And 'Ya Got Trouble' calls for a male vocalist."

"I hate you."

"Think of the children, Jimmy." With his cane he prodded Wilson to center stage. Beside him, in early twentieth century period costume, Foreman, Chase and Cameron shot murderous looks at House. House sat at the piano and grinned as the curtain rose to blinding floodlights and a full audience.

"Show time."

 

 

**Rained Out, for krisomniac** (House/Wilson, PG-13)

"You said it'd be perfect weather for this fishing trip!"

Right on cue, the sky split open with a jagged flash of lightning, a deafening clap, and torrents of rain.

"Mistake Oregon for Maine when you read the forecast, Jimmy?"

Wilson, pulling on his hip waders, returned House's sour glare. "Maybe we can still drive out."

House waited impatiently, while the bullet-sized raindrops threatened to rip the flimsy nylon to shreds. After several long minutes, Wilson re-appeared, a drowned rat despite his rain gear. "We're stuck. Car won't budge."

"I'm not staying here."

"There's no way you can navigate that muck." Shivering, Wilson shucked his soaked clothes.

"Can't even make a fire--" House grumbled; then he started on hearing a metallic zip. "What are you doing?"

Wilson joined their two sleeping bags together, his hands shaking. "Body heat," he stammered, his lips blue. He crawled inside. "Hurry up, I'm freezing."

House rolled his eyes and sighed, but he slid in beside Wilson and zipped up the bag. "It just better not rain all week."

Wilson grinned. "Would it be so bad if it did?"

Not really, but House remained stern. "That's it. I'm choosing our vacation next year."

 

 

**Ten Feet Off Of Beale, for karaokegal** (House/Chase, PG-13)

When Chase's fellowship finally ended, he accepted an attending position in Memphis. Cameron organized his farewell party in the hospital lobby, with a distinct country and western theme.

House and Cuddy sat at the edge of the makeshift dance floor. House unconsciously thumped his cane to the music; he glowered at Chase, who was wearing brand new cowboy boots and hat (gifts from House's other lackeys) and clearly enjoying himself.

"Who knew she was a country girl at heart?" Cuddy said, watching Cameron teach Chase the Texas two-step.

House scowled, but didn't reply as Chase grinned at Cameron and swung her around.

"Well, our loss is St. Jude's gain," Cuddy continued, and raised her wine glass. "To Robert Chase."

House looked away, wincing, and Cuddy set her glass down. "You have to let them go sometime," she said, quietly enough that House had to strain to hear.

"Yeah. Just when I've gotten Chase to where I want him."

Cuddy shook her head sadly, rose, and left. Just then, House's and Chase's gazes met, and House did not miss the brief, stricken look that crossed his face.

That makes two, cowpoke, House thought, as he turned back to his whiskey.


	4. New Series on FOX!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As featured in TV GUIDE.

_Mouse M.D._

_A bold, new series about Gregory Mouse, a cranky and haunted laboratory rodent genetically engineered to exhibit genius-level intelligence. His leg mangled by a tragic mousetrap accident, Mouse now heads a crack team of doctors who investigate strange and terrifying human diseases, using his unique perspective. Mouse is joined by his best friend Dr. James Wilson, the kindly oncologist who rescued him and feeds him food and Vicodin to ease Mouse's unending pain; and the Dean of Medicine, Dr. Lisa Cuddy, with whom Mouse spars on behalf of his patients, and in whose cleavage he continually tries to hide._

_Tuesdays, 9 p.m. on FOX_


	5. Song Drabbles, Round Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles based on song titles and lyrics.

 **Making Love (Out of Nothing at All)**

Fandom: House (House/Cuddy)  
Rating: R  
Spoilers: "Under My Skin" and "Both Sides Now"

"I always want to kiss you."

So House does, desperate and needy, until they're naked in his bed, where he cups her hips, nuzzling her breasts when she leans down. He lets her set the rhythm, one he's missed for twenty years too long. He's never been good with the words that matter, not with Cuddy; all he hopes is that his body will speak for him with each kiss and thrust. He finds his answer in the perfect "o" of Cuddy's mouth when she comes; in the lipstick talisman next morning after she's gone--

The answer, that never was. 

  
**On Saturday Afternoons (in 1963)**   


Fandom: House  
Rating: PG  
Spoilers: none

The year House turned three, his family moved to Britain, just in time for its coldest winter in recent memory. It snowed for two months straight; his chubby legs were unable to traverse the twelve-foot drifts without help. House spent whole afternoons curled in the front room window, watching the snow fall: listening to the adults talk at tea, absorbing their secrets.

Forty-six years later, half a world away, House spends whole afternoons slouched in his office chair, sullenly contemplating those same snowflakes that drift onto his balcony. The only difference, is that the secrets he absorbs are his own.


	6. House Haiku

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of House-related haiku and senryu. All were generated from the LJ Haiku meme.

1.

There is only one  
habit worse than Vicodin--  
House would call it hope.

 

2.

He holds your heart in  
his hands; he fixes it, for  
his own is broken.

 

3.

Wilson stands, his pelvis straight,  
and still not catching House's gaze—  
"Meet you downstairs," House said.

 

4\. _Donorcycle_

At breakneck speed  
topping one hundred twenty--  
patch of hidden ice

 

5\. _Donorcycle II_

A blurred, dark tunnel--  
oily ribbon glistens  
at the breakneck turn


End file.
